


Gloves Off

by Laramie



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 21:13:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19181476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laramie/pseuds/Laramie
Summary: PWP. Robert walks in on Aaron towards the end of a boxing workout. He likes what he finds.





	Gloves Off

**Author's Note:**

> illgetmerope asked for someone to write "Robert coming in to sweaty post-boxing Aaron" so... I did.

Robert walked in the front door and promptly dropped the three heavy bags of shopping he had carefully manoeuvred all the way from the shop without incident. Aaron whipped around at the noise, away from the punching bag he had hung in a makeshift way from the rails of the spiral stairs. This deprived Robert of the sight which had caused his abrupt lack of dexterity: Aaron’s broad back, a white vest top sticking to it in a triangle of sweat, his glistening bare shoulders. Robert hardly ever got to see Aaron in a vest day-to-day; he preferred to keep his arms covered, mostly.

The brief disappointment at being denied this sight was soon silenced by the realisation that the front view was just as good. Baggy black shorts flapping around his thighs, another triangle of sweat over his panting chest, biceps curling the boxing gloves to his chest.

Aaron smiled at the sight of him, arms relaxing. He looked loose and wild, his hair messy and damp, and Robert wanted him more than anything.

“Did you get any orange juice?” Aaron asked as Robert was pulled towards him like a fish on a line. “I’m gasping.”

“Yeah, no, well, probably.” Robert’s mouth answered all on its own, his brain being far too preoccupied with picturing Aaron naked and on his knees, or, no, kneeling  _behind_  Robert and fucking into him rough and fast.

“What?” A puzzled-amused smirk pulled at one side of Aaron’s mouth until Robert grabbed at his neck and kissed the smile off his face. Their tongues touched and parted and touched again, and Aaron’s lips tasted like the sea. They tasted like home.

Aaron’s still-gloved hands were pressed, ungainly, against Robert’s upper arms. He used them to push Robert away slightly. The smile was back, but it was mostly pleased now. “I haven’t even got my breath back,” he complained, though it was clearly a token protest.

Robert crowded him against the punching bag, putting him slightly off-balance, and breathed against his lips: “Shut up and take your fucking clothes off.” He only pushed because he knew Aaron could take it; knew Aaron would happily push back if he wanted to. He loved that about their relationship; that they were an ocean against a beach, push and pull, give and take, the lines blurred and unceasing in their movement, but always right up next to each other. There was no ‘in-between’; the boundary ending one was inherently the start of the other.

Sure enough, Aaron flipped them around, holding Robert hard against the bag with one hand. He held out the other and waited, unyielding and somehow towering, despite the inch or so between them. Robert licked his lips eagerly as he fumbled to undo the glove he had been presented with. He fumbled even more with the second, as Aaron took full advantage of his freed hand to unbutton Robert’s trousers and pull down the zip.

With two bared hands, Aaron yanked Robert’s t-shirt off over his head, throwing it to the side. Robert slipped his own hands into the back of Aaron’s shorts, squeezing his arse to bring their hips up against each other and pull Aaron into a wet kiss even as Aaron worked to divest Robert of his trousers and briefs. He smelled hot and damp, and his skin, when Robert tasted his neck, was twice as good.

“Need lube,” Robert said shortly as he stepped out of them, leaving his shoes behind.

There was a tube of it stuffed down behind a sofa cushion where they had forgotten about it a couple of days ago after a slow evening in. Aaron clearly remembered it too, because he pulled Robert towards the sofa by the hand, but this time he bent Robert roughly over the arm of it. Breathing heavily, Robert listened with anticipation to the click of the lid. He closed his eyes, letting it be a surprise when Aaron pressed two fingers inside him. He moaned quietly, reaching awkwardly for his own cock while Aaron stretched him, adding a third finger.

“Do it now,” Robert said, voice sounding wrecked even to his own ears. “I - I want it to be -”

“Yeah,” Aaron agreed, without needing to hear it. Another click; wet noises as Aaron slicked himself up which made Robert twitch in his hand; and then the thick press of him against Robert’s hole. The brief moment of  _do we need more foreplay?_  before Aaron slipped inside him in a rush.

Robert breathed in sharply at the almost-pain, making Aaron pause.

“Is - Was that -”

“It’s bloody -”  _perfect_ , was the word that got away from Robert as he slid his hips back against Aaron’s, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as Aaron opened him up inside.

It really didn’t take long after that. Robert quickly realised that Aaron had even left the shorts around his thighs, because he could feel the fabric flapping against the backs of his legs, a gentler caress than the way Aaron was gripping his waist. He wanted bruises, suddenly. He wanted Aaron’s mark on him even after Aaron had let go. He felt Aaron’s teeth against his shoulder blades and that did it for him; he came moaning, the handful of tissues Aaron had thrust at him halfway through saving the fabric of the sofa. Aaron followed a few seconds later, still moving throughout it, and Robert felt a drip against the inside of his thigh.

Aaron slowed, breathing again, before pulling out of him. Robert turned over, his legs still hanging over the arm of the sofa, and gazed up at Aaron through heavy lids as his cock began to wilt again against his thigh.

“You’re still not even naked,” Robert murmured, when he had remembered how words worked.

“Don’t need to be to get you gaggin’ for it, apparently,” Aaron replied. He pulled his shorts back up and sprawled lazily on the floor next to Robert to give him a sideways kiss. Aaron didn’t often say these things aloud, but Robert could easily read Aaron’s admiration for his body and love for his being in Aaron’s eyes. “Since we’ve both worked up a sweat now, let’s go and have a shower,” he said quietly.

Robert grunted disapprovingly. “Moving is for straight people.”

Smiling, Aaron kissed him again. “I’ll make it worth your while.”


End file.
